Puxley Manor is where the lord of the land conducts his business upstairs away from the unpleasantries of the slaves housed below.
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June 11th, 2012
1:25 p.m.

Dr. Richard Reynolds hadn't seen the sun in a hot minute; and it was beaming down like the heavens were ready to scorch the earth. The heat of the day confirmed it was indeed summer, and the closer it got to the solstice, he knew heat and light would affect his poorly treated skin if he planned on coming outside more often. More often than not, Reynolds would be found in the bowels of Azkaban, buried under mounds and mounds of research and experimental work that had him busy for the better part of the year. Anytime he hit the surface for air or a quick bite (when he remembered), the sun had already set. Time and location were completely lost on him at times; seasons would change, holidays would come and go and he would only think a day or two had passed.

As he uttered things to himself, whispering his speech he'd practiced over and again in his chambers down below, he anxiously paced in the holding room just outside of the office he'd been told to wait until the Dark Lord was ready. It hit him again. Merlin! The Dark Lord! His nerves were on overdrive. He perspired some, not only because of that kiss of sweltering summer that was a shock to his senses but also because he was nervous as all get out. After all this time, all these trials he'd gone through with subjects, both failed and successful, Reynolds was about to meet the Dark Lord himself and perhaps his trusted advisors. As much as he wanted to keep this presentation under wraps, he would expect the Lord to have company. Witnesses. Guards. Something.

He gulped as he looked at he cage he'd wheeled in behind him. It was sturdy, black-out fiberglass encased in wrought iron, reinforced with magical strength to contain the subject inside. There was only a small horizontal slit at eye-level for an average person, though at its height of eight feet, his subject inside almost completely filled the case. Trying to calm down, Reynolds clung tightly to his notes and took a deep breath. He could do this.

A tremendous chunk of his life was dedicated to this project. He needed this to work in his favor, or it was back to the drawing board.
Last edited by Rupert Reynolds on Sat Jul 15, 2017 10:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The past 45 minutes hand been damn near excruciating and quite honestly he would have cut and run had Delilah not threatened to nail him to his chair if he didn't finish out the stack of paperwork he'd been putting off since they'd got back from the underground. Honestly running a country was no where near as fun as people were lead to believe. Bills needed vetting, laws checking, egos stroked.... ughhhhh it was enough to make Teague want to hurl. So much pandering went on with meeting after meeting it was a blood miracle anything ever got done. He'd traded in his tie and button down for a more comfortable green sweater. The pants he could live with, same with the dress shoes but hell if he hated ties... bloody pain in the arse they were. With a sigh the tracker put down the quill he'd been using to sign documents.

Speaking of meetings... Teague chanced a glance at the clock on the wall and let out a soft sigh. He had one scheduled for 1:30 p.m. with some Doctor something or other...Reynolds? Yea that sounded about right. He was coming to talk about some project of something. Not something to be overly excited for but the tracker wouldn't deny he was at least a tiny bit curious as to what kind of project warranted the Lord of the wizarding word to see? Vet? Approve of?

With a sigh Teague cleaned up the stack of papers he'd been going through and made his way to the door of his office. Maybe the Doctor was early, and quite frankly anything or anyone reason to not stare at papers was a good reason to check and see. The tracker..err lord, poked his head out the now open door and saw what he figured to be the man of the hour and some sort of cage? behind him. Heh.... maybe this meeting was going to be a lot more interesting than he'd first figured.

"Hey there, Dr. Renyolds I'm guessing?" Teague walked out and offered a hand to the man and followed it up with an easy grin, allowing his posture to take on the easy going tracker he was known for in hopes of settling the mans nerves. "Come on in," he stated simply after introductions were given. Teague turned and left the door open for Reynolds and headed back to his desk, flopping down easily into the chair behind it, watching as the good doctor entered and set himself up.
What time is it...

Does that even matter anymore?

It was dark inside the box and that's all he could tell. He was bound, muzzled, blindfolded, and shoved inside a heavily reinforced cage. From what Christophe could tell, he was being moved, transported somewhere--he assumed was another part of the lab where he'd been kept for years, never having seen the natural light of day for most of that time. He voiced outside of the box, muffled, as if he'd had his head underwater. Dr. Reynolds was one of them, and and the other one--he didn't recognize right off the bat. Reynolds had assistants, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to have company, but his instincts were telling him he should be wary of his surroundings if the door opened.

On the outside, Richard was trying hard not to be a hot mess. The Dark Lord himself walked through the doors and introduced himself, and all he could get out was a nervous hello and thank you before carting in his presentation into the room after he'd been given the invitation to proceed into the office. It was like he'd imagined, suitable for the Dark Lord, spacious yet cozy, dark, yet illuminated in the right spots. He'd always imagined this place would be like a throne room of sorts, and even though it was furnished like a proper office, he felt it had that regal air about it that was enough for him to feel like he was in a dream.

"Th-Thank you for allowing me to meet with you, My L-lord." He said meekly, as he shuffled through his notes once more.
Drusilla yawned and kicked the duvet off in a not-so gracious manner. She woke up in her hotel room around six, did her usual stretch and yoga exercises for the day and since she didn't have much in the way of duties to complete (since she was usually working on the forge or fishing with the townsfolk by 9 am), she decided to polish her blades and take a nice hot bath before heading off to Puxley. She was surprised she even remembered where it was, or how to get there from where she was staying, but being a part of the DE company was just like riding a bike, right? You hop off for a few weeks, months--years--and you can pick it back up again like no time passed, right?

She yawned again as she entered the manor, muttering to herself that she should have picked up a coffee or some sort of caffeine to help her stay awake for the duration of her stay here. Teague made it sound like a quick tour and maybe a little time to chat about her new position and its benefits. But when she reached what looked like the Dark Lord's office, or perhaps the adjoining conference room, Dru heard voices inside. Teague's was one of them, and the other? Well, seemed like a harmless one. Meek. Nerdy. A doctor?

Dru smirked and made sure her blades were secure before knocking softly on the door, two soft raps with her knuckles. She peeked her head in and stepped inside, grinning from ear to ear. This was an opportunity to see Teague MacTail, her old bestie from Hogwarts, in action as the Dark Lord? Oh, this is OUTSTANDING.

"Hiiiiii," She was beaming, and greeted them with a sing-song melody in her tone. The doctor looked up, a little rattled by her presence. He nervously pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose and gave a polite nod. "Hope I'm not interrupting?" Dru arched an eyebrow and strolled over beside the desk, resting on the edge some. She winked at the doctor to further fluster him, and then looked over at Teague.
Teague absently drummed his fingers on his stomach as he waited for the good doctor to get on with whatever the hell it was he called the meeting for. The box was obviously key, but it was quickly forgotten when Reynolds stammered some for of thanks. Dark eyes settled on the man as Teague sized him up, what the tracker saw, was nothing special. Typical reseacher guy, meek, scared of his own shadow and those of authority... Teague barely suppressed a groan. This was going to be a complete waste of time. Maybe this was Delilah's form of payback for that drunken night out they'd had a few days ago.


The greeting was sickeningly cringe worthy with how happy its owner seemed to be. It took everything and the some for Teague not to facepalm at Dru's all to exuberant entrance. What was she doing here anyway? He hadn't called for her that he could remember... had Del? A frown settled on his face followed by a frustrated sigh. As if this day couldn't get any worse... Teague fixed a glare on Dru and pointed at a chair in front of his desk.

"Chair. Sit. Now." Teagued figured he'd done well to keep an even tone, though it brooked no room for argument, and if Dru did argue, Teague wa not above kicking her out on her ass. While the good doctor wouldn't notice a change in the trackers demeanor or cadence of spoken word, Dru would probably be able to pick up on the subtle layer of annoyance that had settled over the tracker. Once he was certain the woman was going to comply he turned his attention back to Reynolds.

"Yeah, no problem. So what brings you here Doc? Guessin' it has something to do with what's in the box?"

Doctor Reynolds almost froze at the sight of the woman. An audience? He wasn't supposed to be presenting in front of an audience, was he? This information was simply put together for the Dark Lord and that was it. He gulped and watched as she sauntered into the room; He didn't expect the company anyone in this area to be so...cheery. Richard already felt the sweat at his brow and moved to wipe it with a kerchief he pulled from his pocket. Once he dabbed the perspiration from his forehead, he put the cloth back into his pocket and stood at attention until it was his turn to speak. Oh, he wouldn't dare speak out of turn in front of him or even the lady who had arrived.

"Ahem," He cleared his throat before rifling through his papers which seemed to have gotten out of order from all of the nervous pacing and shifting he'd done earlier. "Well, sir. I was notified by Mr. Felix Fischer just a few days ago that our presentation was to be green-lit--that we were finally able to come speak with you. I know that you've been busy, sir, that's no problem. I-I just apologize if anything feels out of turn as I had little time to prepare." Reynolds' throat was dry, and he coughed again. He hated namedropping but in this instance, it was necessary. Any reaction that he'd draw out of the Dark Lord of his cohort would tell him whether or not they were familiar with him, one of the old guard, in a way. He was a low-ranking Death Eater, from what he could tell, but passionate as hell to keep this project alive.

"Are you familiar with Project Chimaera, sir?" He asked, looking over his glasses to the Lord who was seated in his chair directly in front of him.
Dru raised her eyebrows at Teague when he barked at her. Sit? Now? Was this his way of showing off his power in front of others? Maybe he forgot she was supposed to be here? She wasn't going to spend all of her time tucked in the stuffy little foyer. (It wasn't little by any means, actually, but that was the thought.) Her eyes flickered with a bit of uncertainty and mock offense as she took the chair offered, bowing her head with a gesture, a flourish of obedience.

She didn't want to mess with whatever presentation was happening from the lanky looking man so she dragged it around the desk. It took longer than she wanted (the chair was actually heavier than it looked, even for someone with her strength), and the legs of it dragged with an ear-piercing squeal. Luckily it was only a short distance. She placed it beside the Dark Lord and his apparent throne, giving her a nice view of the show. Dru plopped down beside Teague and faced the Doctor and his strange looking box. Or cage...whatever it was.

"Sorry I'm late, dear. Stuck in traffic." She uttered as she sat down. It was a joke, perhaps a little ill-timed, but it was her way of coping with stepping into an apparent sideshow starring her very own best friend.

When she went to place her boots on the desk she saw Teague glare at her, so she was at least mindful of that and abstained. Dru settled in and crossed one leg over the other, folding her hands neatly into her lap like a good observer, and listened as the rambling doctor responded.

Chimaera... Her eyes widened, and she turned to Teague with a raised brow. She'd heard of this before, but only through rumors, nothing more. "No way..." She whispered to herself, certain that Teague might have heard her.
The squealing of the chair as Dru pulled it to his side of the desk was enough to put his normally calm temperament in jeopardy. For the first time in --well in ever, Teague felt his eye twitch, and the Lord had to force himself to relax the white knuckled grip his hands had adopted. He turned to look at Dru with a glare that was as cold as ice at the ill timed joke. This sure as hell was not the time nor the place for it, friend or no. Merlin he wished Delilah was here to lend a bit of direction to this rapidly sinking ship. Hell, since he wasn't a picky guy he'd even take Julian if that was an option. The kid had done a decent enough job of keeping things together while he'd been trapped under ground...

Teague's attention was brought back to the doctor when he spoke again. The Lord was about to bark at the Reynolds to get to the point when he posed his question. Project Chimaera? What the hell was that all about? Dru's quiet outburst had him casting a side long glance at the woman and the back to the good doctor, a confused yet curious expression spreading across his face.

"No," the tracker replied simply even though from the words "project" and "chimaera" it wasn't to hard to to figure out what was going on. Especially en-light of Delilah's information concerning the muggle mutant program from MI5. It was kind of unsettling to say the least. Muggles and magical folk creating their own versions of superhumans... Teague shifted a bit in his chair to get more comfortable since he was certain if he asked for clarification he was going to get. While he rather wait for Del to make her appearance his natural curiosity was getting the better of him.

"I ain't never heard of a project of this nature before. Care to enlighten me?"
That arctic chill that came with Teague's stone-cold glare was all it took to make Dru fall back. For a moment she stared back, wide-eyed and eyebrows raised that he had not so subtly silenced her with his darkened glance. She was all about fun and games and giving the gent a hard time as he would be eager to return the favor in a different setting, but perhaps it was a little out of place when he was here conducting business as the Dark Lord. She sat quietly, back flush against the chair, elbows on the rests and hands folded neatly in her lap.

Dru shifted her focus to the scientist, cowering older man, who seemed to be trembling where he stood, even more so with the full attention of the Dark Lord and his...well, bodyguard. Whatever it was in the box was even more intriguing, and she wondered what sort of show they would experience soon.

The words Project Chimaera almost sounded familiar...though, as she racked her brain for the reason behind that vague familiarity, she came up empty. It would be easy to deduce that it had to do with a mish mash of creatures, due to her extensive study of mythical and magical creatures in school (and furthermore, a deep interest in them well into her adult years), but she wanted to hear the official words from the doctor himself. What was this to be presented now, before the Dark Lord... in the time of rumored "mutants" roaming the city? Were they from the same line of study and experimentation?

Dru set her sword aside, propping it against the side of her chair, and waited.

Dr. Reynolds blinked twice and then felt his mouth go dry. So Lord MacTail hadn't known about this? How far did this reach and was he going to get shut down if they didn't like it? All he did was the job he was contracted to...because he had to. They threatened Lucrezia and Claudia and R... He stopped. Richard was getting ahead of himself. He was going to get flustered thinking about the family he hadn't seen in a decade, all because of this bloody project they forced him to complete.

He cleared his throat, and looked up over his glasses at the Lord and the woman who had just joined them. "Ahem. Uh... Well, m'Lord, P-Project Chimaera was originally developed by myself and several other researches who were recruited years ago-- I-I wanna say at least ten years--by Mr. Felix Fischer and a couple other retired Death Eaters of the old days." How long had it been, really? The concept of time was lost on someone who was tucked away in a lab all day, so if he was accurate on that timeframe, he would be surprised at himself. "Y-You see, the project itself, to my understanding is to preserve the welfare of any regime members, e-especially the well-being of the Dark Lord. Er... You, my Lord."

OBVIOUSLY. Ugh, shut up, you look like such a damn fool.

Richard gulped, took a breath, and continued: "This dates back to Derrin White, or even before that. We began our studies...I say we because it was once myself and a few others but some have since left or..." His voice trailed off and he coughed. "Basically what we have done is used our research on magical creatures and with the assistance of sciences, spliced certain genetic material into magical creatures to enhance the abilities of any witch or wizard under our care. N-Now, I'm sure I know what you're thinking..." He made a really broad assumption, but in case he would lose interest of either of them in his intimate audience, he needed to justify his work before they shut him out completely. This was his one shot, and he couldn't afford to lose it. "Who would volunteer for such testing, right? Well, our f-facility was originally located in Azkaban and almost all of our subjects have been pulled from various blocks throughout the p-prison. A-And we properly screen them prior to testing."

He paused, and gulped again. Here would be an appropriate spot to wait for any questions, comments or concerns from MacTail, of which he would happily offer an answer... if he could.
Delilah should have known better than to dart out for lunch with only a half hour remaining before a meeting even she had held off feelings about. It wasn't often any who worked at Azkaban requested audience of Lord MacTail, and when they did, she usually was able to convince them to send an owl regarding the unruly prisoner with the action they wish to receive clearance for rather than waste Lord MacTail's precious time. This person had persisted beyond her initial owl back, stating audience was necessary as this was a matter of deep importance and Dr. Reynolds would be making his way on the 11th at 1:30 p.m. on the dot should that time work. Delilah had confirmed, a blot after her name the main sign of frustration at the demanding tone of the letters.

Still, it had been a particularly crazy morning, and 1:00 p.m. was the soonest Delilah had been able to step out. She hadn't brought her own lunch today, of course, so she'd had to apparate to Diagon Alley and find her way to her favorite little cafe, which apparently was still in rush mode. She had just received her meal at 1:25 p.m. despite having her order taken at 1:05 p.m., and she had promptly apparated to Puxley, having to make her way up the path, into the lobby where she barely returned Jessica Malcolm's greeting, and up the stairs to her office. Delilah momentarily considered leaving the food and her tea at her desk before deciding against it at the sound of her stomach. She needed to focus to take minutes at the very least, so a moment later, she pushed through the door which adjoined into Teague's office, food and drink in hand as well as a notebook and quill she had grabbed.

Delilah was more than a little surprised to find that Dru had allowed herself in in her absence, and it seemed the man of the hour, Dr. Reynolds, had also made his way in. By a quick glance at the clock, even with her quick rush here, she was still two minutes late. "Pardon my tardiness and the sandwich. I've hardly had a moment to breathe today," she said as she slid into the small desk to the side of Teague's and set her items down, poising her quill, which was spelled to take notes verbatim as she pulled out her sandwich, feeling far less professional than she preferred.
Blah, blah, blah, protect the lord, more blah. Jesus, Mary and Joseph this stuttering idiot was going to be the death of him. As much as Teague wanted to face palm he forced himself to refrain and pay attention to what the good doctor was saying. Right so it was an Imperium Idiot program... oh goody. It was hard to think the Guard had enough brain cells between them to get a project of this magnitude off the ground.

The mention of Derrin White earned Richards a raised brow but then the man drifted off again and Teague cast a side long glance at Dru as if to ask "Is this guy for real?" Eventually though, the man was finally able to spit out what it was they were actually doing. Chimera. They were genetically altering prisoner DNA with magical creatures. Bloody hell... The tracker let his eyes drift towards the box that had been brought in earlier, his gut already telling him that whatever was in the box was one of these things.

Teague had been about to shoot off a volley of questions when the side door to his office opened and Delilah made her way in. He gave her a nod not willing to bitch at her for keeping the ship moving so to speak since Teague was pretty sure the woman was the only reason the government had yet to go up in a giant fireball of doom.

"Eh no worries. Dr. Reynolds here was just telling us a bit about one Project Chimera, run by our favorite idiot guard."

The tracker turned his attention back to the doctor.

"Two questions. One: you said yer facility moved. Why? And where is it now. Two: I'm assumin' that one of yer things is in the box? How can you be sure it ain't gonna kill us all once you let it out?"

Teague absently waved at Del and Dru to indicate that if they had questions of their own they could go ahead and ask them.
[NPC - Dr. Richard Reynolds]

Another guest...Another...woman? Oh! He recognized her. Demetria...no. Dalia? Del...Delilah Chase! Richard Reynolds claimed victory in his own mind, as not to seem too awkward about his revelation of the woman (as if he wasn't being awkward already with who appeared to be a warrior woman seated beside the Dark Lord. How could he forget her name? She was the Press Secretary, and he knew that much from what he'd been told whilst underground. Even though he was locked away in the depths of the laboratories, Reynolds knew exactly who this woman was...not that it made the presentation any easier, especially when she sat down with her quill.

Bollocks. He cursed inwardly, hoping not to continue fumbling with words since they were now being documented.

Then, Teague threw questions at him. It was to be expected, but he was still trying to recover from the second interruption in a matter of minutes. "Uh...Right. Let me explain--from the beginning then, yes? In 2001, our project was founded and funded by one F-Felix Fischer. To my knowledge, he was a Death Eater, or at least I'm sure he was, because I s-saw the mark. The one--well, you know." He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and continued, "He gathered several scientists, researchers from the magical realm and was supposed to be proposed to Lord Vol...well, him to help preserve him and his followers. After his death, we have been having uh, a little bit of trouble getting our voice heard--even with Mr. White or Mr. Williams--we'd never been able to resurface without being c-completely obliterated. Until now." He'd only been privy to this knowledge because after all these years Fischer couldn't keep his damn mouth shut, but Reynolds was at least given a reason behind why he was black-bagged and snatched away from his family; He was given a chance at life by studying and enhancing life. As the lead researcher, Reynolds was given the chance to know Fischer's plan to work with the new regime.

"Our first facility was located on the outskirts of the city, originally called the Pit, modeled after some of the dark rooms below Azkaban. I guess dark-er, depending on how you see the place." He huffed an peculiar chuckle, amused at his own unusual and failed joke, and continued: "Up until a while ago, maybe a year or two--I-I'm sorry I'm lost on my time frames--there was an attack on our facility. I'm a little wary on the details of that night, to be honest. My apologies. B-but after that, we moved our studies and test subjects back into Azkaban for s-security purposes. Mr. Fischer decided it b-best to stay there, since we needed to make sure none of our subjects were harmed, snatched or uh...could escape."

Was he forgetting the details? No. Was he skimping on certain details? Yes. It was his way of trying to keep the Lord's attention without him outright throwing him on his ass. Reynolds cleared his throat and looked at the box as the second question posed was an important one. "Correct. I've brought one of my subjects here today, to demonstrate his purpose. Zero, as he is called, was trained to become a p-part of his Lordship's secret service, as it were. A weapon to serve, protect and kill for...well..." He gulped, as he pushed up his glasses that had slid to the tip of his nose since he was perspiring so badly. "You, my Lord."
The appearance of Delilah Chase was not surprising, as it was amusing. At least now, someone else would take the brunt of a scolding for being so tardy to a meeting, and the Press Secretary of all people was walking in late? All Delilah got as a reaction from Dru was a thin smile and a dip of the head to acknowledge her entrance. She kept her smugness to herself because she was actually surprised to hear what Dr. Reynolds had to say.

Dru looked over at Teague, shifting slightly in her seat to cross her legs. Her mouth was slightly ajar. Not only was she surprised he'd handled being called My Lord several times now, but she was simply floored by this new information. There was inhumane testing going on in their own backyard? And this doctor seemed to speak so nonchalantly about it, that led her to believe he was truly underground for a lot longer than she'd been away,
seemingly apathetic and disconnected from the rights and wrongs. The longer she thought about it, the more it made her sick. Those people were pulled and forced into experimentation, something far less merciless than a swift kill. Hell, she feared the Unforgiveables were a better way to go, than that. All she could decipher from the babbling mess was that someone, someone who supported Lord Voldemort, decided this would be a good idea and funded an underground project to create...monsters.

"The subjects. The prisoners." After some cold, yet brief eye contact with Teague, she turned back to face the doctor. "If this is the first Teague -- er -- His Honor -- has heard of this, then who signed off on it? I apologize if I'm asking out of turn, but prisoners or not this just doesn't seem...right." Boxes, a cage, magical chains, sometimes there wasn't enough power in the world to withstand some of the worst things out there already, how much more when nature was tampered with? Plain and simple, this was playing God, and in all of the examples of this she'd seen in life or in fiction she'd read, things never turned out quite right with things like this. "Transplanting of your facility into Azkaban, and pulling their personnel, their resources. Someone has to have known, right?"

There were other questions, many other questions, swimming in her head, but for now that would be all she could take, until it came back around to her again. Delilah, Teague, they'd have more to do with the outcome here, more say when it came to the consequences of this unconventional project. She was merely an onlooker, someone who would have to take matters into her own hands if things went awry. Dru eyed the hilt of her blade, calculating all outcomes, trying to prepare herself in case she needed it.
Delilah nodded as Teague gave her a very bare bones explanation of what was being discussed then went on with his questions for their guest. She took a sip of her drink as she processed the questions and glanced at Dru. What was she doing here? She knew Teague had enlisted her as a tracker and bodyguard sort of woman. Was there a reason behind her appearance or was she simply here to do her job? Delilah pushed that thought away as she had many since the moment she had first met the woman. She seemed alright, seemed to be truly on their side, and that counted for something in this day and age where, evidently, a project by the name of Chimera had managed to slip by unnoticed.

Delilah turned her attention to the Dr. Reynolds before them as he prepared to answer Teague's questions. He seemed direct enough, yet there were tells that he was nervous. "Um" and "uh" were chief among them along with the stuttering. Was he nervous because he was before Lord MacTail or was there something further to his nerves? A knowledge that they were in the dark, that he could find himself without a job? Yet if that were it, if either of those things were it? It made no sense. He had, after all, just said that they hadn't been able to come out with the project to White or to Trevor without the fear of being obliterated. Her eyes narrowed slightly at that. That spoke of them viewing Teague as weak, someone who would hear them out rather than simply react to their disobedience with punishment. That was not ok. And honestly, she was not alright not understanding the source of his nerves either.

Delilah loved how he skirted over this implied lack of fear or respect toward the man who currently held the rank of "lord" to answer then Teague's question regarding the location of the facility, past and present. And something about what must be in the box. Having missed the first bit of information, Delilah had no idea whether to expect human or werewolf or magical creature. Her hand fingered her wand in its holster. If he was going to let something out of there, she was not going to simply trust the safety of the situation even if this was someone or something intended to protect Teague, and the use of the word "subject" left her even further on edge. She could get details on what this entailed either after the meeting or at an adequate point to ask further questions.

Dru spoke next. She brought up a good question. Teague obviously was in the dark about this, something else that undermined his authority. And her final question was even better. She had an idea whom it might be. There was only one person in her books who would have had the gall to undermine either of them or the regime to turn tides in his own favor, only one person who had held such power to have signed something to continue on past the end of term, only one person who had gone missing following the rescue of Teague and the others from the Syndicate. Mysteriously. Unexplained. Without leave.

"Hunt," she said, her eyes trained on Dr. Reynolds. "It was Hunt, was it not, who signed any necessary extension of funds? And what do you mean that you weren't able to come out without threat of obliteration until now? Do you believe that Lord MacTail would treat disobedience and overstepping of boundaries than the late Mr. White and former Lord Williams?"
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